My father died when I was 18. Since my mother had also passed away during my birth and no other living relatives to speak of, I was an orphan – well and truly.
My father's good friend, Steve took me into his home within a month of his demise and by the third month, he was abusing his position and was fucking my tender pussy when he should have been protecting me. That shows what men are really like, huh?
My father was in a lot of debt. It quickly became clear that our house would be seized and I would have nowhere else to go. Well, technically I did have the choice of going to a shelter, but Steve decided against it.
Now, we were not one of those church going people, but my Dad was old fashioned and he nominated Steve as my godfather.
Steve seemed nice when my father was alive, I certainly never expected him to take advantage of me like this... But no matter, where else could I go? All those shelters were full of women who were so abused that they have become unhinged and frequently displayed violent behaviors. It's true, victims become abusers.
No matter... As soon as I moved into Steve's house it became clear to me that the relationship we had had changed. With Dad no longer there to protect me, Steve didn't have anyone else to feel guilty to. The day I moved in, he had his hand around my shoulder the entire time he was showing me around the house. There were several occasions where his other hand strayed in places that made me genuinely uncomfortable. As he was about to live me in my new room, his hand slipped down my back, grazing my bottom. That sent chills down my spine.
A few days later as I was getting ready to go to school, Steve opened my bedroom door as I was about to hook my bra behind me, and told me he would be driving us to school in 10 minutes. He didn't even bother to look embarrassed, nor did he apologize for his intrusion. He just stood there for one whole minute finishing his sentence as I stood there dumbfounded; my skirt unzipped and one foot in my shoe. There was no need for him to tell me that, yet he did it anyway. As he left, I saw through my third level bedroom window his wife Martha yelling at her children to get inside the minivan.
Steve and Martha had 3 kids living with them: 18 year old Taylor, 17 year old Jamie, and 6 year old, little Susie. He had another son, 20 year old Jake who was away on college.
Now, Steve was loaded and he was the proud owner of a 4 star restaurants. He and his wife Martha had been married for 21 years. Even though Martha was two years younger than her husband, she had a thick streak of grey hair running down the side of her head on her otherwise lusterless brown hair. She looked about 15 years older than him.
The house they lived in was a huge 5 bedroom Victorian home with fine regal castings outside and chrome and sleek modern finishing's inside. Steve drove a Lexus while his wife a BMW – it was a minivan of course, but it was a BMW nonetheless.
At 44, Steve was a tall, thin man with balding head and hairy chest; he had hair in all the wrong places. He brayed like a donkey every night he finished unloading a large dump of cum inside me. He would play with my titties and squeeze them like they were squashy toy balls. Even though Steve was an average looking man, he had a large, thick cock with chunky angry veins that scraped my pussy walls.
Being the survivalist that I was, I had quickly learned to enjoy his advances. It was either that or wallowing in self pity and turning to drugs. Which one would you choose? Steve didn't use any protection; he liked riding me bareback, but he was thoughtful enough to buy me morning after pills. Some of which now lay on the table beside my bed near a picture of my father and pregnant mother.
Steve's cock was 8 inches long. He had a thick mushroom head that felt like a sharp, delectable stab as it pierced my cunt. I felt him spraying me with his steamy, hot jizz – it felt like a pressurized fire hose going off inside me. His hand moved to the back my neck and he tilted my head in the pillow as he kiss me deeply. I moaned and thrust my huge 34 DD tits into his chest, feeling his thick bed of chest hair tangle around my nipples as his tongue massaged mine.
Steve drew back, slowly pulling his floppy man meat out of my fuck hole. The table lamp beside my bed cast a patch of light on his chest. Ever the progressive, I got on my knees, grabbed his limp dick by the base, and licked it clean of both of our juices.
'Oh god, you are amazing!' Steve claimed as I thoroughly administered his dick with my skilful tongue before letting it slip out of my mouth, soppy and wet as a thin trail of saliva connected his dick to my mouth.
I held his gaze with my blue eyes as I leaned back on the bed, spreading my thighs open and scooping out his cum as it trickled out of my glistening pussy, and licking my fingers clean.
He was all over me again, mauling and pulling at my tits, making rudimentary noises like a pig about to be slaughtered.
'Shhh!' I hissed as he grunted and sniveled, having the time of his life groping me. 'You'll wake Martha!'
Now, Martha was a cold fish. There was no two ways about it. I wasn't really sure if Martha had a low sex drive or if she was a lesbian, but she clearly had not been doing her wifely duties.
When I asked Steve about it, all he would say was, 'Don't worry about it; it's all good.'
Now, Steve might not have a care in the world about it, but I suspected Martha knew what was going on. She showed her displeasure by living me out of her food ration whenever she cooked for the family, amongst other things. She would feed her children and Steve without informing me to come to the table, and by the time I would come down for supper, tired and hungry, all the food would be gone.
Martha barely talked to me. I would break out in shivers every time she and I were alone in a room knowing full well that she could do some damage to me. At 5'4, Martha was a good 2 inches shorter than me, but she was one of those stocky farm girls who looked portly, but they could pack a punch.
She would stealthily hit me sometimes. For instance, one day as I was hanging clothes in the line, a sudden gust of wind made the bed sheet bluster around my face. During this momentary confusion, I clearly felt a blow to my leg and hip. When I opened my eyes I saw Martha looking very unapologetic.
'Oops sorry,' she gloated. 'I didn't see you there.'
Glaring at her, I cleared my face of my long brown hair. I saw her wheeling the waste container away. What on earth was she doing hauling that so near the clothes line? It normally stayed a good 10 yards away to the side of the house, at least that's where it was the last time I saw it 5 minutes ago. I knew she was hurting me on purpose but trying to make it look like an accident.
Furious, I went back inside knowing full well that she was watching me and waiting for a chance to attack me. Of all the productive things she could've been doing, she was focusing on me instead!
That night as I rode Steve's giant schlong, I started telling him of my suspicions.
'No, not now,' he grunted fondling my titties. 'Later,' he took one nipple in his mouth and started suckling. I was sitting on top of him while he sat on the bed. I patted his head; I knew it was a busy night for him at the restaurant being Saturday and all. It was a lost cause trying to talk sense into him.
Even though I was 120% sure Martha knew what he got up to, Steve seemed very reluctant to broach the subject with her. Perhaps he was afraid of the consequences or the discussions that might follow?
He had come straight to my room when he got home for a quickie before bed. I knew she had knowledge he was home as Steve had shouted at the dog Lassie for tripping him in the dark. He had a very deep, booming voice that was hard to miss even when he spoke quietly.
Steve lay back down on the bed; I balanced my hands on his chest and rotated my hips so that his cock sloshed around my insides, touching all of my pussy walls but not at the same time. I sighed in content as his monster cock stretched me further, almost to the point of pain but not quiet...
'Girl, where did you learn those incredible moves!' He growled.
I giggle. 'You know, I was just an underage girl a few moths ago,' I teased him with this illicit knowledge. 'So fresh and young, my tender pussy had never known the battering from such a fine, virile man! Oh,' I let out a yelp of surprise as Steve flipped me over so that he was on top and I was trapped between the weight of his body and the bed. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he adjusted his cock with one hand before pounding in and out of my pussy.
I saw the tiny red light flashing from the camera over his shoulder as it recorded our fucking.
Steve was strong, so strong... he pinned my upper body as he nailed my pussy to the bed with his cock. In and out, in and out he went, tearing my adolescent pussy apart and I loved every second of it.
I never would have thought that Steve was capable of such carnal prowess. I remember when I was little and his son and I used to play in his lap. It seemed so innocent then... Little did I know that all it would take for him to see me in a different light was the death of my father. No matter, time cannot be reversed, the best I could do was to improve my current situation.
The next day was Saturday. Steve had left my room at 7 in the morning. I knew Martha woke up every morning at 6 to go jogging, and she had to walk right past my bedroom, down the hallway to take the stairs. My bedroom door was wide open.
I groaned and ducked back under the covers knowing full well that there would be repercussion. She never stopped to think that her husband was the one who had to get an erection first to fuck. No, instead she focused all her malice on me and I could see why. Steve was over 6 feet tall and she could not go against him. I was smaller and skinnier which made me a perfect punching bag for her muscled arms.
That whole weekend was a living hell. Steve was hard at work as weekends were generally the busiest for restaurants. Every time I came back home after running some errands, she tried to run me over with her car multiple times. She would sit waiting in it, neglecting all house work, until I was at the driveway. Then she would back that car up so fast that I had to jump out of the way but she would chase me around the front yard. Expensive, high quality BMW's were a boon to their owners. Then she would get out of the car and had the galls to say 'Oops sorry, didn't see you.'
The next day I woke up in the morning and opened the door to go to the toilet only to feel a sharp, prickly pain up the soles of my feet. All traces of sleep vanished and I looked down to see a scattering of needles concentrated near the door entrance.
Martha liked stitching. Immediately, I felt my whole body going cold. I quickly locked the door and stayed holed up the entire day.
***
Steve's son Taylor was the same age as me. We went to different schools, he at an expensive all boys private school, while I went to the local public school. My father was a mechanic; needless to say we were dirt poor and could barely get by. Steve and my father were one of those odd pair of friends who came together despite their vast social differences.
I had assumed Taylor had no idea what was going on as he stayed in the bedroom on the second level. I was staying at Jake's old room, the one who left to go to an Ivy League college. Taylor had white blonde hair that went past the nape of his neck, piercing blue eyes and a peach and cream complexion.
